Michael
R. Licona’s The Resurrection of Jesus: A
New Historiographical Approach (IVP Academic, 2011), represents a
substantive scholarly contribution to the wealth of academic literature on the
resurrection. In this series of 4 blog
essays, I am providing an in-depth interaction with Licona’s careful work. In the first two essays I covered the book’s
overall structure and Licona’s significant historical work on historiography,
miracle-claims, historical Jesus sources, and bedrock data concerning Jesus’s
fate. In this post, I want to engage
Licona’s assessment of various historical hypotheses that seek to account for
the historical bedrock. Next week, we
will critically analyze the strengths, weaknesses, and contributions of the
overall work.

Chapter 5 – Weighing Hypotheses

Having
discussed historical methodology, the possibility of investigating historical
miracle-claims, the relevant historical sources, and the historical bedrock
pertaining to Jesus’ post-mortem fate, Licona finally turns to the crux of the
matter—determining what actually happened to Jesus after his crucifixion.

Licona insists that a successful historical
hypothesis must account for the full range of historical bedrock “in order to
place a check on undisciplined imagination,” (466) and must be demonstrably
superior to competing hypotheses (467).
Licona proceeds to critically analyze six competing hypotheses: five
naturalistic hypotheses set forth by Geza Vermes (VH), Michael Goulder (GH),
Gerd Lüdemann (LH), John Dominic Crossan (CsH), and Pieter Craffert (CfH); and
the traditional Christian ‘Resurrection Hypothesis’ (RH). I found it somewhat disingenuous for Licona
to analyze five personalized naturalistic hypotheses, while considering the
sixth one under a generic heading.
Licona has already acknowledged (130-32) that RH is the position that he
has historically embraced and defended.
I think it would have been fitting to have labeled the position his own
(LiH), or attributed it to Habermas (HH), Wright (WH), or Craig (CgH). I quibble, and shall move on.

Space
prevents a full presentation and analysis of the five naturalistic hypotheses
Licona engages; thus, I will provide exceedingly brief accounts. Geza Vermes (VH) takes an agnostic position,
arguing that none of the naturalistic hypotheses “stands up to stringent
scrutiny.” (472) In his hypothesis, Vermes fails to account for Paul’s
conversion experience (477), does not explain the nature of the disciples’
apparitional experiences (473), fails to shed light on other areas of study
(478), and a priori rejects RH
(calling it extreme) because of its presumption of a theistic worldview
(473-74, 478).

Michael
Goulder (GH) and Gerd Lüdemann (LH) present slightly variations on the theme of
hallucination. Goulder theorizes that
Peter and the other disciples suffered from intense guilt and cognitive
dissonance (479-80), leading to subjective individual and group hallucinations
(the latter of which, Licona notes, are not evidenced in the scholarly
literature). Licona notes that GH
provides illumination of religious
experiences, but is “entirely speculative, positing compounded psychoanalyses
in order to explain the data.” (494) Lüdemann’s hypothesis (LH) is similarly
built upon ungrounded psychological speculations (505, 518), though he explains
the disciples’ hallucinations as self-delusion rather than cognitive dissonance
(497-99).

John
Dominic Crossan (CsH) proposes that Jesus’ resurrection in the New Testament is
intended metaphorically, not literally (519-21). “Resurrection was only one way the early
Christians expressed the presence and power of God’s kingdom through Jesus.”
(531) Crossan identifies six “concerns” with literal interpretations of Jesus’
resurrection (519-21), each of which is answered by Licona (532-38). The biggest challenge to Crossan’s
hypothesis, according to Licona, is its foundation: Crossan builds his
historical reconstruction upon a highly speculative identification of a
hypothetical source (the Cross Gospel)
which he isolates within the second-century Gospel
of Peter (522-24). Licona notes that
responsible historiography resists “the temptation to employ sources of
uncertain value”—Crossan, he declares, has not done so (542). Crossan’s dubious use of textual sources
renders his hypothesis considerably less plausible than others (556); combined
with his employment of questionable psychohistory, CsH is also highly ad hoc
(556-57).

Pieter
Craffert (CfH) suggests that the disciples experienced the risen Jesus while in
“altered states of consciousness” (‘ASC’, 565), common occurrences in ancient
mystical religion. Those subjective
experiences were interpreted as ontological realities, leading to the
centrality of resurrection belief within the early church (563). Given a modern scientific worldview
(naturalism), however, we know that those appearances could not have been
ontological realities—thus we must accept them as cultural artefacts, not
objective historical facts (561). CfH
“makes no attempt to explain the appearance to Paul,” (580) and the assertion
of ACS violates the plain reading and meaning of the texts (570).

Not
surprisingly, Licona finds each of the five naturalistic hypotheses severely
lacking. Even apart from RH, none of
them qualifies as a satisfactory historical hypothesis (582). Each fails miserably to satisfy at least one
of the core historical criteria. The
traditional Resurrection Hypothesis, on the other hand, passes Licona’s
evaluation with flying colors. RH
accounts for the full historical bedrock (as well as Licona’s second-order
facts) “without any strain whatsoever.” (600) If worldview presuppositions are
properly bracketed, then RH is not implausible (602-04); similarly, RH could
only be accused of being ad hoc in
the sense that it “allows for the supernatural.” (604) Finally, RH provides
rich illumination of numerous other historical questions, particularly the puzzle
of the birth, growth, and survival of the Christian faith (605-06). “RH comes in first place and is the only
hypothesis to fulfill all five criteria.
RH is not only superior to the competing hypotheses examined, it
outdistances them by a significant margin.” (606) Licona concludes that “if one
brackets the question of worldview, neither presupposing nor a priori excluding
supernaturalism, and examines the data, the historical conclusion that Jesus
rose from the dead follows.” (608) Ultimately, he assigns the traditional
Resurrection Hypothesis status as a “very certain” historical fact—“a rendering
higher on the spectrum of historical certainty than I had expected.” (619)

In
some ways, Licona’s conclusion is unsurprising—he has not hidden his starting
position. What stands out, however, is
Licona’s honest assessment of alternative hypotheses, and his accurate
diagnosis of their key problems. It must
surely count for something when the historical evidence is such that
non-resurrection hypotheses must invoke a
priori rejections of the miraculous in order to render their ad-hoc
assertions more probable than supernatural resurrection.

In
our next (final) blog post, I will draw some general conclusions about the
merits of Licona’s massive resurrection tome.
Stay tuned!